A Past Unknown The Story of RAB
by Stroiken
Summary: Who is RAB? A man that new Voldemort's secrets? Or a women with a pull on him? This is the story of R.A.B., and of the relationship that could bring about his downfall.


_**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**_

_**Hey. This story came to me over a period of a few weeks. I've got a solidly formed plot, and actually have most of it written out, now i'm just going through in order to revise. **_

_**Anywho, R&R.**_

_Prologue_

_June 30th, 1957_

"Jesus Christ, Tom! What did you do?" Anjelina spun around, her ebony hair splaying across the side of her face and her eyes narrowed. "I know that women did not just die by herself."

"Relax, love...and you know, I'd rather you call me Marvolo...or even Voldemort would suffice. Not that wretched muggle name." He waved his hand nonchalantly while he leisurely splayed himself over the leather sofa in their apartment, his dark eyes sparkling under his tousled hair.

"I will call you Tom. Because that is what I've called you since the day I met you, and that is who I fell in love with." She spat vehemently. "I don't know why you try to be someone else, when I love you the way you are...or atleast I thought I did."

Tom's eyes betrayed a hint of adjetation, but he replied coolly,"Did you ever think, Lina, that it's not always about you? Did you ever think that maybe I'm not satisfied with the wretched name that I inherited from my filthy muggle father?" He sighed, "And what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that maybe I'm wrong about you? Maybe you're not the person that I thought you were? Or maybe, it's because you've changed back to that vindictive fifteen year-old boy?" Her emerald eyes narrowed, "Murder is a crime, Tom. You're lucky you haven't gotten caught."

"Like I said," He stated evenly, rising to meet her height, "Relax. She had something I wanted." He traced a elegantly tapered finger along her jawline, "And I have it now...What's done is done."

"Easy for you to say." She stated coldy, wretching his hand away from her face.

She marched into the study in a fury of movement, slamming the door behind her. In an attempt to take her mind off the impending situation, Anjelina reverted to perusing their collection of books. It may have been theirs, but the small library mostly consisted of Tom's books, and they almost all happened to be associated with the Dark Arts. All of Anjelina's books resided in her villa on the shores of Italy. These were the books that she would never let Tom touch, for even though she loved him, she couldn't trust his ambitions. The books were thousands of years old, and many were the only copies of themselves in existance. That was why she had never told him about them. They were ancient and dangerous.

A book on Inferi lay open on the desk. Lina sighed, closing the book and tucking the notes, written in Tom's elegant scrawl, inside its pages. Why couldn't he have normal ambitions? Why did his aspirations always have to consist of something that could get him thrown into Azkaban? Lina brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

That was when she noticed two objects that she had never seen before. A golden cup, and a locket necklace. Anjelina reached out to brush her fingers against the golden cup while she examined the engravings on it. She felt no magic surrounding it, so she picked it up in order to rotate it around. Anjelina gasped when she saw a crest on the cup. The crest of Helga Hufflepuff.

"It can't be." She breathed softly.

"But it is." Said a voice in her ear.

Anjelina's eyes strayed to the locket, "And that,"

"Is my mother's locket." Finished Tom, as he laced his arms around her waist.

"So this is what you wanted?"

"Yessss." He whispered hypnotically. Tom layed his face against the curve of her neck and breathed in the scent of her hair.

"I know that they are the founder's, and one has some sort of sentimental value, but you couldn't have wanted them _that _badly, just to have them? There's a purpose, isn't there? There's always a purpose when you do things like this."

"Always." He answered, this time kissing the bare skin of her neck.

"So, then what is it?" Anjelina replied, leaning into him.

"Do you remember our little talk on horcrux's sometime ago?"

She nodded.

"Well, I've found the book that will help me make one...well, with a few renditions, of course."

"But you're immortal as long as I'm alive, so why this?" She waved to the goblet that was set back down on the desk.

"In the case of your death...and besides, you won't keep me from aging." He winked as she turned to face him.

"So it's vanity too, then. Jolly good." Anjelina remarked wryly.

Tom and Anjelina worked their way across the jagged rocks of the beach, every now and then, getting hit with some spray from the ocean. Tom was leading her up to a cave that he had always liked when he was younger, and at one time, gotten his revenge on a couple of his taunters from the orphanage. They did this every Sunday. It was where they could be alone and discuss things while enjoying nature. Tom grabbed her hand as they began to scale the side of a cliff scattered with jagged rocks. When they reached the cave, Tom mumbled a string of incantations, and it was safe to enter.

Immediately, Anjelina was overcome with various waves of magical energy. She stepped back, but Tom laced his arm around her waist, and led her forward.

"You've obviously done some work since the last time that we were here." She mumbled, glancing around in order to examine any apparant presence of incantations.

"Yes," Tom stated, swaggering forward and plopping down on the dirt floor of the cavern. "It's going to be where I store my very first Horcrux."

Again, it came back to aspirations, and Anjelina resisted rolling her eyes for the sake of not starting an argument with him. Lately, it had become more and more about his ambitions.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Anjelina sat down next to him and crossed her legs.

"Going to the Malfoy's"

Anjelina snorted in disgust, "Why?"

"Because without their support, I would not be as far in my research as I am." Tom leaned back against the wall of the cavern, and closed his eyes.

Anjelina sighed. Again, it was all about his ambitions.

_January 18th, 1967_

Tom absentmindedly twirled his wand between his fingers in boredom, his head resting against the chair in the Malfoy library. Why wasn't Lestrange back yet? It was supposed to be a simple operation; just capture a buch of worthless muggles, and bring them to him. He sighed, steadied his wand, and turned his head toward his soul mate. Anjelina was browsing the books on the farthest wall of the library. She was miffed at him for the hundredth time this week, and he could feel her emotions faintly in the back of his mind. Every now and then she would send him a glare, but he would only smirk back at her, admiring her ageless beauty. Even at thirty seven, she looked like she was twenty.

A flash of light from the window disturbed his musings, and he looked to see his mark in the sky. Tom smirked to himself. Avery had certainly outdone himself this time. He would certainly have to commend him on his originality in signals. Perhaps, he thought, he would use the signal for future excursions he and his followers went on.

"Honestly," Anjelina sighed, "Can't they restrain themselves."

"Restraint?" Tom gave a dry laugh, "Love, I have no restraint."

"So you're really doing this?" Anjelina spat out.

"Absolutely." Tom stated finally, signalling that she was not to say anymore.

Anjelina fixed her gaze harshly on the mark that was shimmering in the sky, her emerald eyes flashing. Tom reached forward to touch her, but she pulled away and swiftly left the room, cloak billowing out behind her.

Tom came home late. His robes were torn and bloody, and his hair a mess. Anjelina knew that the blood was not his own. When he came in, he stripped off his outer cloak and tossed it to the floor. All the while he stared at Anjelina, who sat by the fire in their newly purchased 'home', wearing her nightgown. She did not break eye contact until he had stripped off all his clothes, except his boxers.

Anjelina turned back to the fire that was dancing in the hearth, her eyes distant. She had seen what had happened, even though she had not been there. Anjelina had seen all the people that had died, and her stomach turned with the sickness of loving a monster. She felt helpless in the fact that she couldn't stop loving him no matter what he did, and she loathed herself for that reason.

Anjelina felt a hand touch her bare shoulder, but she did not respond. She could smell the blood on him, even though he didn't have his bloody clothes on. Her gut wretched, but she remained stoic. His hands turned her chin toward him, forcing her to take in his beautifully chiseled face and dark eyes. He had put on a black silk bed robe and some pants, leaving his bare chest exposed. Anjelina, despite the emotions going through her, leaned into him.

Tom wrapped his arms around her.

"I saw it. All of it." She whispered.

Tom didn't respond.

"Does it even matter to you how I feel?" She asked, adjetated by his silence.

"You know it does." His voice was void of emotion.

Anjelina turned her head around, "No, I don't. You never take any heed to what I say, and you're constantly hurting me. Do you love me anymore?"

Tom's eyes flashed, "Why would you even ask such a question?"

"Because you don't show it."

"Don't show it?" He scowled, "How do I _not_ show it? By holding you like I just was? By kissing you? By making love to you? Tell me Lina? How am I supposed to show it?"

"Those are things that people in lust do too!" Lina cried, "It doesn't prove that you love me. It proves that you want me, but it doesn't show total love, Tom. You listening and caring proves it. I feel like I'm living a life governed by your sick ambitions!" She stood up.

"Sick ambitions?" He asked incrediculously, "I'm trying to get the filth that poisons this world wiped off the face of this Earth!" He stood up as well.

Anjelina went to turn away, but he grabbed her arm and jerked her back towards him.

"Don't turn away from me." He said dangerously.

Anjelina spit in his face, "I'll do whatever I damn well please. I deserve that much."

Tom slapped her, sending her careening onto the floor. Anjelina screamed in rage, sending a burst of raw magic off from her body in searing waves. Tom immediately blocked it, and flung her against the wall with a flick of his wand.

Her back hit the wood with a sick thud, and she landed on her side. Anjelina didn't bother to get up from the floor. She lay on the floor, staring at the wood beneath her, tears leaking from her eyes. She listened to Tom shut the door of the study behind him.

_January 19th, 1967_

_Tom has become unbearable. It seems as though the more he splits himself, the less human he becomes. I question if he loves me anymore. I feel the half of myself that contains him become colder and colder each day, and I don't think I can stay with him any longer. I believe that the Tom I once knew is so far gone that he's never coming back. Yesterday, he actually hit me. His action started a huge duel between us, and only ended in me breaking down into tears, and him retreating, impassive, to his study._

_Anjelina_

_March 15th, 1968_

_Tom's plans are now into action, and he no longer talks to me. If I ever talk to him, he requests that I call him Voldemort. I refuse. Of course, he can only yell at me for doing so. I can still tell that there is a part of him that acknowledges his love for me, but it is almost nonexistant. I wonder if it is worth staying with him anymore. My brother was wise when he told me that I would eventually have to leave him. However, what good would it do me now? Half the wizarding world thinks that I'm as responsible for the mass muders as he is. The only person who gives me support against that notion is Albus._

**The Daily Prophet**

** _ Death Eaters Caught (front page)_**

**_"_**Saturday was a busy day for Aurors. After a lucky break up of a Death Eater attack, several Death Eater's have been taken into custody. This would include, rumored to be Voldemort's lover, Anjelina Bonaducci. It is suspected that Miss Bonaducci is responsible for atleast half the death's that have occured at the Death Eater's hands. Though she does not sport the dark mark, Ms. Bonaducci is extremely dangerous.

Unsurprisingly, she denies her association in the death's, and insists on her innocence. She is backed by none other than Albus Dumbledore, member of Wizemgot, who backs her claim of innocence. The other Death Eater's captured..."

_May 17th, 1968_

_I am on trial. For now, I am encarcerated in a cubicle in St. Mungo's. I wonder if they'll throw me in Azkaban next? At this point, the pain is too great that meeting the Dementors wouldn't really make a difference._

_Anjelina_

_January 1st. 1969_

_I've been granted clemancy under Albus's care. I can tell, though, that even with my reprieve I am still looked upon as a criminal. The Order of the Phoenix is hostile around me. Alastor Moody is especially annoying._

**A/N: This chapter lays the groundwork for the story. It is mostly to give you a touch of what their relationship was, and how it came to be that she finally left him.**


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